


meant to be celebrations

by Nerd_of_Camelot



Series: Dick and Dami Week 2021 [2]
Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Birthday Presents, Dogs, Gen, Good Dog Titus | Damian Wayne's Dog, Mentioned Ra's al Ghul, Past Child Abuse, Ra's al Ghul Being a Jerk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:40:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29937012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_of_Camelot/pseuds/Nerd_of_Camelot
Summary: Day 2: Dami's First Birthday With Dick | Comfort |"He's my son!"Birthdays were meant to be celebrations.That was an idea that Damian was still, more or less, getting used to.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne
Series: Dick and Dami Week 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2201463
Comments: 2
Kudos: 96
Collections: DickAndDamiWeek2021





	meant to be celebrations

Birthdays were meant to be celebrations.

That was an idea that Damian was still, more or less, getting used to.

In the past, when he was with Mother and Grandfather, birthdays were… Little more than markers of time. Reminders of how much advancement still needed to be made, of how much he still needed to learn. And, if he was unlucky ~~unmotivated~~ enough, they were _harsh_ reminders.

He still remembered his eighth birthday. He hadn’t advanced as quickly as Grandfather had wanted to him, was just a week or two behind. Grandfather had not taken well to it.

He’d spent the entire day being drilled and tossed around until he couldn’t move, and then punished for ‘giving up’. He could feel the aches and pains when he thought about it.

Birthdays were meant to be celebrations.

It was one of many indicators, now that he’d had a little bit of time away, that his upbringing had not been… Typical. And to think it had been just under a year since he had been taken to his Father, and promptly taken in by his… Brother? He was not sure what Grayson was actually meant to be, to him, although Brother certainly seemed an apt descriptor. He was Father’s first chosen heir, after all, even if Damian still believed he ought to be the heir.

He had seen Grayson in action, now, and seeing that even in fights that left Damian winded, Grayson was _holding back,_ proved well enough that Damian was always going to be second in line to him, if not third or fourth depending on where Drake and the newly returned Todd placed on the list on any particular day.

But while Grayson was certainly a force to be reckoned with, and clearly Father’s preferred choice, he was also…

Soft.

So unbelievably soft.

So soft, indeed, that Damian had at first thought him a pushover.

He held a particular worldview, and particular habits, and more than anything Damian had noticed, he seemed devoted to ensuring Damian’s safety and happiness.

Which was more than Damian could have said for anyone else he knew, including Mother and Grandfather, and he was never quite sure how to feel about that.

Was it a good thing or a bad thing, he wondered, that this essential stranger cared more for his comfort and happiness and safety than his own Mother.

Still, seeing the date approaching had, though he would never admit it, had him unsettled and nervous for weeks. Grayson seemed to care for him for reasons he couldn’t understand, and birthdays were meant to be celebrations, but his experiences and the assertion that birthdays were celebrations did not mesh together. And he was worried.

And he hated it.

Now the day was here, and Damian knew that Grayson knew because he had hastily scrawled it onto the calendar nearly a year ago when he was informed of when Damian was born. And he was nervous, and he hated it.

As much as a part of him, a weak part, hoped that Grayson would not put him through the same kinds of things that Grandfather had (and as much as Grayson’s actions so far had done to cement that idea), he knew better than to be unrealistic about it. He wasn’t stupid. He was trying not to be hopeful, either.

It could only be bad for him, in the end.

“Happy birthday, kiddo,” Said Grayson, almost off-handedly, as he passed him, ruffling his hair.

Damian did not reply, and he knew that Grayson did not expect him to.

At least there was that.

For the moment, Grayson seemed absorbed in his phone, but he did pause before he left the hall of the penthouse to enter the kitchen, “You want anything in particular for dinner tonight? Al’s coming over to cook.”

… Pennyworth was coming to cook for him?

He got to choose what to eat?

He nearly froze to the spot, mind spinning uselessly as he tried to think of something, anything he actually really liked to eat. But he did, now that he was thinking, like that stew Pennyworth had made with the plant-based meat substitute…

“... I think I would like if he made some of that stew.” He managed, when Grayson turned to look at him after a moment.

Grayson, who had looked a little concerned at his lack of response, brightened with a smile. “Awesome, I’ll let him know.”

And there was little else in the way of discussion about his birthday for the rest of the morning, and Damian felt… A little better. Just a little.

When evening came and Pennyworth was working away in the kitchen, Grayson quietly excused himself, saying there was something he needed to go pick up, and left Damian there in the care of Pennyworth.

Pennyworth was gearing up to serve dinner (and cake) by the time that Grayson returned. He gave Grayson a look, a look Damian didn’t quite manage to puzzle out before it was gone, and Grayson gave him an apologetic smile in turn.

“Sorry, Al. Traffic.”

Pennyworth hummed. “Well then. We will eat, and then I believe it will be time for gifts, yes?”

“Unless you’d rather do gifts now,” Grayson more or less agreed, although he did look at Damian as if asking his opinion.

And Damian’s mouth had gone dry at even the thought of _gifts._ He was being given _gifts._

Not punished for not doing well enough, but rewarded for surviving.

Pennyworth paused, also looking to him.

“... I do not have a preference,” Damian finally said, “Whatever is more… Convenient.”

“The stew will keep warm,” Pennyworth decided, after a moment, “Where shall we handle gifts?”

“Living room,” Said Grayson, like he’d had the answer ready and waiting.

And so they wandered into the living room, and Damian simply tried to breathe.

Pennyworth handed him a wrapped item first, as Grayson stepped back out of the front door for a brief moment.

“I took the liberty of taking this from your Father’s collection,” Said Pennyworth, “I thought you may like to have it.”

It was, to his mild surprise, a book. A book he recognized, because he’d owned a copy of it once upon a time, before he was able to read it properly. He’d certainly _tried,_ but his comprehension had been… Lacking. Grandfather had taken it at one point and never given it back.

Titus Andronicus.

“... Thank you.” Damian managed to say, a little stiffly, “I… Have not read this one before.”

Pennyworth merely nodded, smiling a tad bit, and it was a small comfort.

And then Grayson returned, with a couple of bags upon his arms and―

“Woof!”

―a dog following at his heels.

The handle of the leash was wound around his hand, and the dog walked patiently behind him as he stepped in, then waited as he closed the door. It was… Large. A young dog, certainly, but some kind of bloodhound-mix. Well trained, clearly.

“So,” Grayson said, dropping the leash, “I got you a couple of things.”

A couple was putting it mildly.

Pennyworth seemed amused.

“You can name the dog whatever you want ― he’s a rescue, so they’ve been calling him about a million different names. I just… Thought you might like to have him, I know you like animals, and he’s well-behaved enough to be a good first pet.” Grayson gave him a dazzling smile, and Damian felt his breath leave him at the realization Grayson _paid attention to his likes and interests._ He knew he liked animals. He knew he liked _dogs._ He’d gotten him _a dog for his birthday._ “I got some related things, of course, like a leash and food bowls and food and treats… But I grabbed you a couple unrelated gifts too, if you want to open them.”

Damian nodded, a little numbly.

Grayson just continued to smile and passed him two fairly small bags.

A handheld video game system and a handful of games that he hadn’t thought he’d showed such visible interest in. He felt himself tearing up a bit and he hated it.

“... Thank you,” He managed, swallowing the thickness in his voice. He blinked back the tears and looked to the dog still sitting by the door. Grayson had removed the leash now, and he was still just… Sitting. He swallowed again and patted his leg, and the dog lurched up onto his feet and trotted over. “I…” He coughed, reaching to pet the dog’s head. “I am naming him Titus.”

Titus sniffed at his hand, licking his fingers, and laid his head upon his lap.

“Good boy.” He said, weakly.

… Maybe birthdays _were_ celebrations, after all.

And that night, after they’d eaten and Pennyworth had gone home, Damian let himself be vulnerable for a moment, in his room with Titus and Grayson. He let Grayson hug him, and he let himself hug back, and he knew he must have made Grayson’s night because he squeezed him, gently, and he was grinning when he pulled back from the embrace.

“Sleep well, kiddo. Don’t let Titus squish you.”

“I will do my best.”

Grayson patted his head, “Night. Love you.”

And Damian nearly choked whispering, after Grayson had already left the room and closed the door behind him, “I love you too.”

Thankfully, Titus was there to snuffle his face and lay his head upon his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> so i know Bruce technically is the one to give Damian Titus but it's my story and i get to make it another bonding moment for Dick and Damian if I want to


End file.
